


My Sister's Son

by TwicetheTrouble



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dis isn't thinking straight, Gen, Minor Character Death, Sad, Thorin probably isn't either, almost, dead infant, he has every right to be, i don't know how to tag, kili as thorin's son, lots of grief, thorin is a worry wart, thorin's wife is important but not really, toddler Fili makes everything better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwicetheTrouble/pseuds/TwicetheTrouble
Summary: Thorin once had a beautiful wife, who gave him a son more precious than any gem in the horde of Erabor. His small family had made even the pain of loosing their ancestral home a distant memory. There was never a time in his life that he was as happy as he was with them. But Thorin should have known that joy such as this couldn’t last. Not for him.





	1. Thorin's little Family

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Here's a small story I thought up when my friends and I were watching the Hobbit and noticed how much Thorin focused on Kili's safety over Fili's. Now, that's probably because of his age and recklessness, but I figured I'd give him a different reason. I'm pretty sure that this has been done before just as I'm pretty sure I got some details wrong somewhere but oh well. This story demanded to be written so written it was, with or without proper facts.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy,  
> TBL

Thorin couldn’t remember a time where he was happier than he was right at that moment. The last few years had been uncharacteristically great, but this day, this day bested them all. For, it was on this day that his son was born.

As he knelt by the cradle and watched the sleeping bundle as if even blinking would cause the infant to disappear and this dream to end.

“Thorin,” a gentle voice prodded, making the enamored dwarf look up. A soft smile greeted him as the female dwarf placed a hand on his shoulder. Her dark hair flowed in messy ringlets down her back with only a single braid still in place. Her chocolate colored eyes were tired but still held a hint of amusement in them. “He’s not going anywhere you know.”

“I know,” he replied before turning back to infant. “He’s perfect Kibil. So entirely perfect I can hardly believe he’s mine.”

“Ours,” Kibil corrected.

“ _Ours.”_

“Now come,” she all but ordered him. “Let the boy sleep; he’s had a trying day. That and you need rest as much as he does right now.”

“I need rest? You’re the one who berthed him only a few hours ago. If anyone needs sleep it would be you.”

“And _you’ve_ been up for three days straight being a worrier,” Kibil said with a chuckle. “Honestly, what sort of dwarf rides for that long just on the off chance your wife might have your child soon?”

“Good thing I did or I would have missed it,” he stated, making his wife chuckle.

“You are going to be a great father,” she said. “Starting tomorrow. Now say goodnight to your son and let’s go to bed.”

“Very well,” Thorin replied. He brushed a small strand of dark hair away from the child’s face, barely brushing his fingers against the tiny forehead. “Good night Kyrian. Sleep well.”

 

Three weeks passed in the blink of an eye. These weeks were full of much crying and little sleep, yet Thorin wouldn’t trade them for the world. In fact he enjoyed his late night meeting with Kyrian, the infant barely had to fuss before Thorin would be right at his side, scooping the little one out of his cradle.

Most nights Kibil didn’t do much more then feed Kyrian and watch as Thorin took care of everything else. Yes, she cared for him during the day while Thorin was blacksmithing, but at nights, the boy belonged to his father.

That night, Thorin hummed happily as he walked home from work. Night had just fallen, but neither the dark nor the chilled autumn air seemed to dampen his spirits much. He had in his hands a freshly whittled toy pony, eager to place it on his son’s unfinished mobile when he got home. It wasn’t the finest quality, with the legs being different lengths, the head unsymmetrical, and he didn’t even want to look at the misshapen shape of what was supposed to be the saddle. Unfortunately, Thorin wasn’t an expert carpenter, or even a fairly competent one, but he was getting better. He figured if he kept at it he would be able to make something worth playing with by the time his son was ready for them. Until then his failures would at least give Kyrian something to look at.

Thorin stopped short when his house came into view. The outside lantern hadn’t been lit. Now, it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, it’s just a small candle that lit up the front porch, and Kibil did occasionally forget to light the lanterns in the house. But this lantern was always lit by nightfall to insure he could find his way home.

Uneasiness began to seep into his mind as he slipped the toy into his pocket and placed his now empty hand on the hilt of his sword. He quickly moved towards his house, finding as he got closer that it was abnormally quiet.

This only fueled his anxiety. He moved quicker towards the house, taking the porch steps two at a time and bursting through the door without a moment to spare.

Thorin froze in the doorway. His eyes widened as he took in the scene in front of him. An abandoned pan on the floor, a knocked over chair, a pool of blood still expanding as well as the body that lay in the middle of it.

He couldn’t move as he stared into those unseeing brown eyes, the eyes that used to hold so much life yet now held none. His legs gave out, forcing him to his knees beside his now dead wife, her blood seeping into his clothing without his notice.

Thorin reached towards her tentatively like he was trying to find out if the body was real but wasn’t sure he wanted an answer. His hand barely brushed her cheek as his eyes drifted to the raged gash in her throat. She was still warm, her body only just beginning to cool. This was done recently. Whoever was responsible could still be nearby.

Before his thoughts could turn to revenge, however, he heard a loud crash and a fearful cry from the bedroom. It was the cry of a startled infant. It was Kyrian.

Thorin was back on his feet almost instantly, unsheathing his sword as he ran towards the back of the house. He had just made it through the shattered doorway to see a large, shadowy figure holding a sword over his son, ready to deliver a killing blow.

“NO!” Thorin yelled as the blade began its decent. He darted forward, just quick enough to knock the sword off course so that it buried itself into the cradle and not his son.

He swung his sword at the attacker, forcing him away from his blade. The figure seemed to consider his odds for a moment before evading Thorin’s blade once again and scurrying out of the room. Thorin was just about to go running after him when Kyrian’s cries increased in volume, making the warrior stop in his tracks. As much as he hated letting his wife’s killer go, he just couldn’t bring himself to give chase knowing he would be leaving his son behind unprotected.

He let his sword clatter to the ground as he took a few quick strides towards the now ruined crib. He reached in and picked up the boy, carefully maneuvering him around the blade until he was able to cradle him against his chest.

“Thank Mahal you’re alive,” he whispered, placing his forehead against his son’s for a moment to prove to himself his child was still there. He lifted his head to gaze at the screaming infant in his arms, realizing that he needed reassurance just as much as Thorin did.

“It’s alright, Kyrian. I have you,” Thorin said, gently petting his son’s hair as he did. “He’s gone now, Ada’s got you.”

He continued to speak as soothing as possible while he examined the infant, making sure he was unharmed. He ran his hand along the little one’s flailing arms and legs, finding nothing amiss he let out a sigh of relief.

This relief was short lived however when he finally gazed at the boy’s face to find a small cut on his cheek. It was only about an inch long and was more of a graze then a cut, but for an infant as little as Kyrian, even the smallest cuts could be deadly. Or that’s what his father assumed as he began to panic once again. He just lost his wife and didn’t dare take the chance of losing his son as well.

“Alright Kyrian, we are heading out for a while,” he told the dwarfling as he wiped the blood off of his cheek. Thorin began bustling around the room, collecting the few things he knew he’d need for what he had in mind. “I am sure Oin would be more than happy to take care of that cut of yours.”

He placed Kyrian on the bed long enough to swaddle him in a few blankets before holding him close yet again. Once he was wrapped up the infant started to calm down, obviously taking comfort in their warmth.

It was only a few minutes before Thorin was ready to go with his sword back in his scabbard and various other items stashed in a bag on his shoulder. He had even thrown on a large cloak that covered him and his son completely, though how he was able to latch it with only one arm even he couldn’t figure out.

With Kyrian completely out of sight and finally quiet, Thorin left the room once more, stopping once only to study the ruined door frame. From the looks of it the door had been locked which had forced the intruder to break it open. He was certain that, had that not been the case, he would have lost him as well.

Thorin held Kyrian closer as he walked down the hallway, eliciting only a small sigh from the now dozing infant. He found it increasingly difficult to simply put one foot in front of the other as each step brought Kibil’s body closer. When she finally came into view once again, he stopped.

Seeing her like that broke his heart. All he wanted to do was hold her close in a vain attempt to keep her in this world. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t just sit there and mourn while his son needed to be cared for.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, his voice horse.  He forced his eyes away from her again and urged his feet to move. After some coaxing he finally made his way out of the house and into the street.

The air seemed colder than it had earlier, as if seasons had passed by in only a few minutes. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had. With a heart filled sigh, Thorin started down the road, his cloak floating around him as he disappeared into the night.


	2. Thorin's nephews

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo....you know how I have that "dead infant" tag in there? Yeah, that comes into play in this chapter. I'm sorry!
> 
> So, I hope you enjoy,  
> TBL

It was over an hour before Thorin found himself in front of Oin’s house. It was quite late now, being long past the time for visitors. Luckily, as a doctor, Oin was always prepared for someone to knock on his door, no matter the time.

Thorin pounded on the door with his free hand, wanting to get the dwarf’s attention. He was just about to start shouting as well when it swung open revealing a single, grumpy dwarf. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the dwarf he was looking for.

“Damn ya impatient bastard!” Gloin yelled. When he caught sight of Thorin he straightened up but otherwise didn’t change his mood. “Thorin? What in all of Middle Earth are ya doin here? It’s the middle of the night! Go home damn it!”

“Where’s Oin?” Thorin demanded, ignoring him. “I need to speak with him.”

“My brother’s with Dis,” Gloin replied with a huff. “He left three days ago when he got word that she was in labor. Haven’t heard from ‘im since.”

“Thank you.” Thorin bowed his head in gratitude before leaving the other Dwarf to his sleep once again.

“Thorin,” Gloin called before he got too far. “What do ya need Oin for? Is someone hurt?”

“It is none of your concern,” Thorin answered simply. “Good night, Gloin.”

Thorin continued on his way, ignoring Gloin’s sputtering about how it had been a good night before he was disturbed. He picked up his pace, his worries mounting after hearing the other dwarf’s news. He had to get to his sister’s home quickly and find out what was going on.

It didn’t take long after that for him to get to his destination. It was ten, maybe fifteen minutes until he was standing on his sister’s doorstep pounding on her front door. A couple minutes later the door opened a crack and a pair of wide blue eyes looked up at him curiously.

“Are you a bur’lar?” Fili asked after a moment. “Because my ama said t’at only bur’lars come to the door at night.”

“I am no burglar.” Thorin smiled lightly despite the circumstances as he removed his hood. The dwarfling’s eyes widened in recognition as he threw open the door and tackled his knees.

“Uncle T’owin!” his nephew cried looking up at him with a toothy smile. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Fili,” he said, ruffling the toddler’s hair. “Even though I visited last week.”

“It wasn’ a week,” he said, trying to look stern. “It was fowever. I counted.”

Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle. He didn’t know how but his nephew somehow had a talent for cheering up his uncle with only a few words.

“If you insist,” Thorin replied. “Let’s head inside before it gets much colder.”

Fili nodded and let go of his uncle’s legs in trade for holding his hand. He led him through the door and down the hall all the while chattering about everything he remembered from the week. The dwarfling was halfway through telling him how he had been chased by the neighbor’s dog when an unknown dwarrowdam stepped out in front of them with her hands on her hips.

“What are you doing out of bed?” she questioned, frowning sternly at the toddler.

“My uncle’s here!” Fili exclaimed happily. The dwarrowdam, who he now assumed was Fili’s nanny while Dis was occupied, looked up at Thorin briefly before turning back to the child.

“I distinctly remember putting you to bed an hour ago. Now come.”

The nanny grabbed his hand and began to lead the youngster down the hall, causing Thorin to let go of the dwarfling’s other hand. As he was being taken back to his room, Fili turned around to wave awkwardly at his uncle, a large smile still on his face.

“Goodnight Uncle T’owin!”

“May your dreams be bright, Fili,” Thorin called back just before his nephew disappeared around the corner. After a moment Thorin continued down the hallway behind them. He rounded the corner, a little surprised to see Oin in the hallway and not the dwarfling.

The old medic looked frazzled as he stood in front of the master bedroom, his hands on his hips. His hair was unkept, even his beard looked like it hadn’t been touched in days, which told Thorin the situation was not good.

“Oin,” Thorin called out, getting the elder dwarf’s attention. Thorin walked quickly forward as Oin looked at him in a confused manor. As he got closer he noticed the dark circles piled underneath his eyes, showing exactly how little sleep he had gotten in the last few days

“Thorin? What are you doing here?” Oin asked.

“Looking for you. I need your help.”

“Me? Whatever for?” He questioned again, only this time not giving his king the time to answer. “Oh never mind, I’ve been meaning to message you anyways. You might be of assistance.”

“Oin, my reason is very-“

“Important? Yes, I’m sure, but this is a matter of life and death so I believe it takes precedence.”

“Who’s life?” Thorin asked before he could stop himself.

“Your sister’s.”

“What is wrong?” He asked after a moment. He had wanted Kyrian to be taken care of as soon as possible but right now the dwarfling was sleeping contently while his sister might be dying at that very moment. “Tell me everything.”

“Three days ago I was summoned over here to assist Dis in the birth of her child.”

“I know that much.”

“It was a difficult birth, took most of the day. It had been so strenuous that, well, the infant was stillborn,” Oin said tentatively. Thorin felt like someone used a club to knock the air out of his lungs. His little niece or nephew, already dead before it could take its first breath. “I tried everything I could but the labor had been too long, the little one never had a chance.”

“Three days ago.” Thorin’s voice was low yet filled with emotion. “My sister lost her child three days ago and you didn’t tell me! Why was I not informed?!”

“Because before I could do anything of the sort your sister locked herself, and the body, in her room and hasn’t let anyone in since.”

“You should have sent word the moment she went into labor. I would have-“

“Would have done what, Thorin? Gotten under foot? Paced in the livingroom? Go grey with worry? Yes, all of those you would have accomplished marvelously. What you wouldn’t have been was helpful.”

“I should have been there for her,” Thorin ground out. “Besides Fili I’m the only family she has left.”

“Regardless, I had no need of you therefore informing you of any of this would have just caused useless worry. You have your own infant to fuss over without having to fuss over Dis’s.”

“That is no excuse!” Thorin yelled, but before he could continue the door besides them gave a faint click before opening slightly. His sister’s tired face appeared in the opening as she gave the two dwarves a halfhearted glare.

“Quiet down,” she whispered to them. “You’re going to wake the baby.”

“But-“ Thorin tried to protest only to be quickly interrupted by Dis.

“No, I will not be putting up with such antics in my home, especially from you,” she scolded. “My baby needs his sleep and I refuse to let you wake him with your shouting.”

“Him?” Thorin’s voice was quiet, but was still heard by all in the conversation. “It was a boy?”

“Yes, he is. And a beautiful one at that.” Dis smiled softly at her brother, not picking up the upset undertones in his voice. “Do you want to see him?”

Thorin nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His sister opened the door wider to let him in. He hesitated, rethinking his decision for a moment. With this day already being so tragic for him, he wasn’t sure he could handle much more of it. But now was not the time to think of himself, his sister needed him after all.

Thorin took a shaky breath, shifting the infant still sleeping under his cloak before entering the room. Oin tried to follow him in but was quickly stopped by Dis shutting the door in his face. Thorin gave his sister a strange look, prompting her to explain.

“He keeps trying to take my baby, says he won’t wake up,” she said as she locked the door once again. “But I know he’s wrong. He’ll be fine, he just had a bit of a hard start and needs his rest.”

“Dis,” he whispered, his heart wrenching at his sister’s words. Dis walked over to the cradle sitting in the corner of the room, not hearing her brother’s statement.

“Come and see your new nephew.” Dis motioned for him to follow, which his feet did without his consent.

Once he was close enough to see the cradle’s contents it took all his strength not to gasp in shock. The infant was clearly not living any longer, if it ever was. Its skin had a dark indigo hue to it that only came with those that have yet to take their first breaths.

It scared him to see an infant so still, so lifeless. He realized then that if he had gotten to his home only a moment slower his own son would be just as still. The fact that the infant had a small tuff of dark hair on his head reminiscent of Kyrian’s only reinforced this.

He pulled his son close once again, finding comfort in the little one’s squirming reaction. It wasn’t Kyrian in that cradle. He was safe in his arms. He was alive.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Dis asked, looking down at the infant with so much love in her eyes he wished that the child had been alive to receive it. “He takes after our side of the family more than Fili does. I haven’t been able to come up with a name for him yet; nothing seems to fit.”

Thorin couldn’t answer as Dis continued on about which names she had thought of and why they didn’t work. He wished he could say something but his throat felt like it was tacked closed.

Dis was just saying how Roli didn’t sound like a very good name when she wavered, almost falling to the floor if Thorin hadn’t grabbed her with his free arm.

“Dis! Are you alright?” he asked, his words finally coming back to him.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little faint,” she answered as Thorin helped her to a chair near the bed. She sat down heavily, looking more exhausted then he thought possible. “It’s been a difficult couple of days.”

“I imagine so,” he said quietly. He poured her a cup of water from a pitcher nearby and offered it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the cup from him with shaky hands.

“You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You should still eat,” Thorin stated, his tone clearly worried. “It’s not healthy to skip meals.”

“I know, but I’ve been so worried about him,” she answered, looking towards the cradle.

“I’m going to have Oin make you something,” Thorin said, not giving her much of a choice as he headed towards the door.

He opened the door and poked his head out. Oin was still standing there, an annoyed look on his face.

“Am I allowed in yet?” He asked, but was ignored.

“Dis needs something to eat,” Thorin told him simply.

“I’m no cook!” Oin exclaimed as Thorin shut the door once again.

On his way back to his sister he stopped next to the cradle once again to stare at its contents. Thorin longed for his sister’s youngest son to still be alive, not just for the child’s sake but for his sister’s as well. This type of loss so soon after her husband’s death was clearly taking its toll. She wasn’t handling it well already and he feared that it might only get worse.

Oin was right, her life was at risk from this and he wasn’t sure if he could save her. She very well could die in his room, pining after her dead son, only to leave her still living child alone in the world.

Thorin couldn’t look at the infant anymore. It was just too painful, knowing that this dead child would only lead to more tragedy. He reached into the cradle and used the infant’s blanket to cover its face.

Thorin was just about to head back towards his sister when he heard a muffled cry. He froze as, for a moment he thought it was coming from the cradle, only to realize when it got louder that it was actually from under his cloak. It seemed Kyrian was awake and not exactly happy about something.

“Is, is he crying?” he heard Dis whisper from the other side of the room. “Is my little one finally crying?”

Her voice was so hopeful that he couldn’t bring himself to tell her no.

“Can you bring him to me? He’s probably hungry,” she continued, clearly not noticing her brother’s tense frame.

Thorin moved his cloak so he could see his son. Looking at him, he realized with a start that his sister was right, Kyrian was definitely hungry. His son was hungry and he had no way of feeding him on his own. And with wet nurses harder to find then a second Arkenstone he had no idea what he was going to do.

“Thorin, I need to feed him. He’s hungry.”

It was with those words that a solution came to mind. It was simple and would effectively solve every problem he had at the moment. But the thought of doing so made him unable to breath. It shouldn’t even be an option, and if the situation had been anything else he wouldn’t even dream of it. This was _his_ son, _his_ precious little boy, yet the only way he could see him live, was if Thorin no longer claimed him as such.

“Thorin?” Dis’s voice cut through his thoughts, sounding a little worried. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Thorin answered, barely getting the word past his throat. He removed the blankets from the infant in his arms, hanging them on the side of the crib before heading back towards his sister.

She looked so relieved when she spotted the squirming little boy that he knew there was no other way. It felt like an eternity before he got to his sister, yet it was still not long enough. With shaking hands, he passed Kyrian to her, reluctantly releasing him into her care.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Did you finally decide it was time to eat?” she asked the crying child as she got prepared to feed him. He watched the boy quieted down as he finally got what he was looking for. Both were happy. Both were cared for. Both would live.

Thorin, on the other hand, couldn’t bear to stay in the room any longer. The shear amount of loss he had experienced in the past few hours finally taking its toll on dwarf. He needed to get out of there, but for his sister’s sake, he had to bring his nephew’s body with him.

He had just gotten to the cradle once again when Dis spoke, her voice cooing at the child in her arms.

“Maybe now that you’re awake we can finally figure out a name for you, hm?” she told the little one, an audible smile in her voice. “What do you think, Thorin? Have any suggestions?”

He thought for a moment as he gathered the blankets in his hands, fiddling with them idly in an attempt to put off the inevitable.

 “Ky-“ he started, his voice catching in his throat before he could finish his son’s name. No, he could never call the boy by that name again. He needed a new name, one that wouldn’t lead back to him and would match Fili’s. “Kili. You should call him Kili.”

“Kili. I like it,” Dis states after a moment. “Fili and Kili, it’s perfect.”

“I’m glad,” he stated after a moment, his voice devoid of emotion. He used the blankets to wrap the small body before hiding it under his cloak.

He headed towards the door, his hand just clasping the doorknob when Dis called to him again.

“Thorin, he’s got a cut on his cheek,” she said with a worried voice. “Did he have that before?”

“I’ll have Oin take a look at it,” he said before opening the door and leaving the room.

Once he heard it latch close, he let out a shuttering breath as he leaned back against the door for support. His head dropped to his chest as his eyes squeezed shut. It was several seconds before he lifted his head again, something akin to a sob escaping him. The sound itself was so full of pain and loss, he could hardly believe that it had belonged to him.

“Thorin?” someone called tentatively. He opened his eyes once again to see Oin standing in the kitchen doorway, a tray of simple food in his hands.

Thorin straightened up, steeling away his emotions once again.

“My sister’s youngest needs attention,” he said simply. “He as a cut on his cheek that worries her.”

“But the child is gone.”

“Not any longer.” Thorin started walking down the hallway only to be stopped by Oin’s hand on his arm.

“What happened?” the doctor demanded. “What went on in there? Why do your pants look to be covered in blood?”

“Take care of my nephew, Oin.” He said simply before pulling away from his grasp. He was gone before Oin could call out to him again.


	3. Oin's Suspicions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad to see people are enjoying this. We're almost done now. The last chapter will be posted tomorrow. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy,  
> TBL

Oin stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. He had half a mind to chase down Thorin and demand an answer, but the other half needed to see what was going on in that bedroom. He let out a tired sigh has he turned towards the room in question. After all, he couldn’t very well ignore an order from his king.

Oin entered the room, making a beeline to the mother and child on the other side. Dis seemed relaxed as she fed the child in her arms. She was already looking better, not as stressed or exhausted.

“Dis,” he called quietly in an attempt not to startle her. She looked up at him as he placed the tray of food on the end table next to her.

“Oin.” She looked up at him still smiling. “I told you he’d wake up, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” he said simply, not daring to let his own opinion known through his voice. “May I see him?”

“You’re not going to try to take him away again, are you?” Dis asked skeptically.

“No, I just need to make sure he’s alright. Thorin said he had a cut.”

“He does, I’m not sure where he got it from,” she said, turning back to the child. she detached him, making the infant fuss as she showed Oin the cut. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t have it before.”

Oin stared at the infant for quite some time, not saying a word. For one, there should be no way that child was alive right now, yet he could hear the baby crying and see him wiggling around angrily. The last time he saw the infant it was dead, and only Mahal himself could have change that.

He knelt down, getting a better look at the infant in front of them. Yes, there was a cut on the infant’s cheek, but it wasn’t all that serious looking since it seemed to have stopped bleeding a while ago. What worried him was the fact that it looked more like a cut from a blade than anything else.

“It is no longer bleeding, which is a good sign,” he told the worried mother. He was not done with his examination yet he had to say something to sooth her mind. “I do not think it will be much of a problem but I’ll put a balm on it to make sure.”

“That would be appreciated, thank you,” Dis replied, smiling at the doctor in relief.

Oin reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pot he always kept on his person just in case. He opened it and started applying the balm to the cut, making the little one cry even louder.

“Shhh, Kili. It’s alright,” Dis cooed as she placed her finger in his mouth in an attempt to pacify him. It seemed to work as he immediately stopped crying and latched on, opening his eyes to look at his surroundings.

Oin froze the moment those steel blue eyes attached onto him. The eyes themselves didn’t bother him, nor did the color since it would change soon enough. What startled him was that no newborn should be able to focus on an object like this one was doing to him. At this age his eyesight shouldn’t be good enough for such things, that doesn’t happen till three almost four weeks. About the same age as Thorin’s son-

Oin’s eyes went wide as he processed this. He began examining the infant, hoping to find anything that disproved his theory. He prayed to Mahal that he was wrong; there was no way Thorin would trade his nephew for his own son, there couldn’t be.

He studied the boy slowly, trying not to startle Dis in the process, looking for every sign of age the infant had to give. The infant had pretty good control of his limbs, if the flailing earlier was to say anything. His eyes were open and alert, making him look like he was ready to interact with the world. He was also slightly larger than a newborn should be, not enough for a regular dwarf to pick up on but for a medical professional it was clear enough. Each of these pointed towards him being weeks old instead of days. He was pretty sure he knew the answer now, but he needed to check the umbilical cord just to make sure.

He pulled up the boy’s shirt in order to check, only to let out a string of dwarven curse words when he found it missing. It hadn’t been gone long, about four days or so. But it was four days ago that Thorin had ran to the healers house in a panic demanding to know why there were pieces falling off his son. It had taken almost an hour to convinced the worried father that it was completely normal and to go home.

That only meant that there was no doubt. This was Thorin’s son, Kyrian. The only question that remained was what possessed the dwarf to do this.

“Oin?” Dis called, bringing the healer out of his thoughts. “What’s wrong? Does it have to do with my son? Is Kili alright?”

“The boy’s fine,” he replied, silently cursing himself for letting his tongue get away from him. “He is perfectly healthy save the cut on his cheek. But even that will heal without a problem.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Oin answered getting to his feet quickly. “But I’ll find out. Excuse me.”

Oin darted out of the room and ran towards the front door as fast as his legs could carry him. He hoped beyond hope that Thorin hadn’t gotten far. He had to stop the dwarf from doing something foolish, or at least more foolish than it was to give up one’s child.

He threw the door open, ignoring the loud sound it made as it slammed against the wall. Looking back and forth he scoured the empty streets in front of him, but there was nothing. No Thorin, no swish of his cloak around a corner, not even a single booted footprint to show which direction he had went. It was as if he had just disappeared into thin air.

Oin let out another string of curses, at a loss on what he was going to do next. Still cursing he turned around, stopping halfway through one such statement as he noticed a small, blond dwarfling holding a wooden sword in the hallway.

“Mister Oin!” Fili exclaimed with a smile. “Are you here to fight the bur’lar too? I heard the door hit the wall and I knew it had to be a bur’lar t’is time because Uncle T’owin would have knocked.”

“There is no burglar, lad.”

“Oh, did he get away?” Fili asked curiously trying to look around the older dwarf. “Is t’at why you were saying all t’ose bad words?”

Oin was saved from answering as Fili’s nanny came around the corner, a cross expression on her face.

“What did I tell you about staying in bed?” she scolded, only getting a smile from the dwarfling. “This is not the time for dwarflings to be running around playing guards and burglars! When you are put to bed-“

“Guards! Perfect!” Oin interrupted, startling her as a solution finally came to mind. “You. I need you to deliver a message to Dwalin immediately. It is of the utmost importants.”

“But I have my own duties to attend to.”

“You’ll find him at the guard station ten minutes down the street. The lad all but lives there,” Oin continued as if she hadn’t said a word. “You must tell him that he is needed at Thorin’s house immediately. Something has happened there, I don’t know what but it’s not good.”

“Something’s happened to the king? But I just saw him a few minutes ago.”

“What are you still standing around for? Go!” he said sharply. She must have heard the urgent tone in his voice because she nodded slightly before slipping past Oin and out the door in a dead run.

Oin watched her leave for a moment, hoping that his message would get to Dwalin in time to catch Thorin. He only looked away when he felt a small pull on his pant leg. He looked down at Fili who was watching him with wide eyes, his weapon all but forgotten by his side.

“Mister Oin, is Uncle T’owin in twouble?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know, little one,” Oin replied, kneeling down in front of him as he spoke. “But don’t worry. Even if he is, Mister Dwalin will make sure everything turns out fine.”

“Alright. I guess t’at will do.” Fili nodded sagely, making the medic smile lightly back.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your ama. I’m sure she’s missed you.”

 

It was several hours before there was another knock on the door. By this time, the little family of three was curled up on Dis’s bed, each completely out cold. None so much as twitched as the knocking continued becoming more insistent as seconds ticked by.

Oin sighed as he climbed to his feet and hurried down the hall. He opened the door, barely having time to recognize a soot covered Dwalin before the guard captain pushed his way into the house, looking quite upset.

“Dwalin, what happened? Why are you covered in soot? Are those burns?” Oin asked as he eyed a charred sleeve and the red, blistered skin underneath. He watched Dwalin open his mouth several times, attempting to answer but each time no words came out. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I wish it was only that,” the guard finally muttered, his voice shakier then the doctor ever remembered it.

“Come to the kitchen. I’ll treat your wounds and you can tell me what it was that has you so spooked.”

“No, we do not have the time. We have to find Thorin.” Dwalin started pacing the hallway, becoming more agitated with every step. “He’s in danger, we have to find him before they do.”

When Dwalin’s pacing brought him towards the door, Oin reached over and shut it, getting a startled look from the guard.

“And we will, I am certain. But I refuse to let an injured dwarf leave my presence without treatment. Not to mention you have yet to tell me what exactly you found,” Oin stated sharply. He waited a moment until it looked as if the other dwarf was finally listening before motioning down the hall. “To the kitchen.”

Dwalin nodded, taking a deep breath as if to calm himself before following the doctor. When they got to the desired room, Oin sat him down in one of the chairs and began studying his wounds.

“Now talk,” Oin ordered, not looking up from the burn.

“I was just locking Nori up again when your messenger arrived. Little bastard tried to pick pocket me in the middle of the square. In broad daylight. I swear the brat’s either the dumbest thief I have ever encountered or he’s just doing it to pester me.”

“Focus Dwalin,” Oin interrupted as he went looking for his medicine bag. Finding it on the counter, he brought it over and started rummaging through it. “What did you find at the house? Not Thorin, I presume.”

“Nay, not him, not that I know of at least.” Dwalin’s eyes looked haunted as he, no doubt, recalled the scene. “When I got there the house was burning, completely up in flames. I noticed a cloaked figure nearby but I was too focused on the house to give him much attention.”

Oin’s hands stalled, the balm he was looking all but forgotten in his hands.

“The house was on fire?” Oin asked, getting a short nod from Dwalin. “Was there anyone inside?”

There was a pause before Dwalin nodded again, more hesitantly then before.

“Mahal,” Oin breathed out, sitting heavily in a nearby chair.

“By the time I got in there, everything was burning. The bodies even more so.”

“Bodies?”

“Aye, two. A female and a…an infant.” There was silence between the two as Oin processed this. “They must have been dead before the fire. There was a large amount of blood on the floor, more than anyone can survive losing.”

“A small mercy,” Oin murmured finally opening the balm in his hands. “Fire doesn’t make for the most glorious of deaths.”

“Whoever killed them, they might be targeting Thorin next,” Dwalin said, starting to look anxious again. “They could have already got to him and we wouldn’t know. We have to find him.”

“And we will,” Oin replied as he climbed to his feet again, suddenly feeling a century older. He began placing the balm on Dwalin’s arm, making the warrior wince slightly. “Any other wounds?”

“Just some singed clothing, nothing more,” he answered.

“You better not just be saying that to get out of my care.” Oin raised an eyebrow questioningly. “You know it didn’t work very well last time.”

“No, it did not,” Dwalin stated simply. “And no, there’s nothing else.”

“Then go, find Thorin.” The words were barely out of Oin’s mouth before Dwalin was out of his chair and gone from the room.

Oin sighed as he heard the front door shut once again. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get much rest in the near future.


	4. Thorin's Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the last chapter of this small, little story. Technically I have a sequel planned out of equal legnth but haven't decided if I'm going to write it yet. I'm currently working on a different story (possibly two, haven't decided if I'm abandoning the second one yet) so if I do, it wouldn't be right now.
> 
> Anyways, Hope you enjoy,  
> TBL

It was three days before Oin could convince Dwalin that his aimless searching was getting him nowhere, and another day after that until the guard captain finally relented to acquiring some outside help.

This was how the healer found himself outside a seedy tavern at the end of the fifth day accompanied by a grumpy guard and a young, very smug thief.

“Here ya are,” Nori said, a smirk decorating his face. “e wasn’t easy to find, ya know. I wouldn’t be against a bit of extra compensation for my efforts.”

“No,” Dwalin growled. “You have already gotten out of your sentence, you ain’t getting gold on top of it.”

“Worth a try,” the thief said with a shrug as he started towards the door. “Come on then, let’s go fetch your wayward king. It’s quite irresponsible for you to lose im in such a manor. Ever consider a leash?”

A low, angry sound escaped the large dwarf causing Oin to place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

“Let it go,” he told Dwalin. “We need his help.”

The guard simply huffed in annoyance before shrugging off the healer’s hand. Oin sighed as they made their way to into the tavern in front of them.

As soon as they entered the place Nori disappeared to talk to the barkeep, leaving Dwalin and Oin to standing awkwardly by the door. The place seemed quieter than it should be at this time of night. There were a few customers scattered around the tables but only about a half a dozen or so, even fewer once several caught sight of Dwalin and darted out the back door.

“Friends of yours?” Oin asked nodding after them.

“Somethin like that,” he muttered just as Nori came back.

“e’s upstairs in the second room,” the thief reported as he motioned for the other two to follow him towards the stairs. “The owner suggests we get ‘im quickly. e’s had enough of the ruckus an’ wants ‘is customers back.”

“What ruckus?” Dwalin asked as they made their way to the second level.

“Well, accordin’ to im, your king appeared four days ago, and payed for a room and about a dozen bottles of his strongest liquor. ‘e was quiet for ‘bout a day before starting to yell an’ shout at the top of ‘is lungs. There were lots of crashin an’ what not. Kept it up for the last few days, only stoppin for a few hours or so before startin right back up again. Strange behavior for royalty, don’t yah think?”

Oin stayed silent as Nori glanced back at them, raising a questioning eyebrow before turning towards the door he had indicated.

“Anyway, ‘ere yah are,” Nori said with a dramatic flourish. Dwalin pushed forward and tried to open the door only to find it locked. He turned to glare at the thief. “Oh, did I forget to mention it’s probably locked? Well good thing you’ve got me now, ain’t it.”

“What are you gonna do? Pick the lock?” Dwalin asked in a growl, only to make Nori smirk even wider.

“I would, but I wouldn’ want to incriminate myself.” Nori fished a key out of his pocket and held it in front of the guard captain’s nose. “So instead I borrowed this from the barkeep.”

Dwalin made an agitated noise before grabbing the key and quickly fitting it to the lock. He flung the door open only to stop in the doorway, blocking the room from the view of his companions. It took almost a minute for Oin to force his way past the dwarf shaped blockade, but when he finally got a glimpse of the room, he froze as well.

The room, if you could even still call it a room, was destroyed. Whatever furniture that used to be in there was now no more than unrecognizable pieces of wood. Bits of fabric from the blankets covered the ground like confetti while shards of glass sparkled far too happily among them.

If the room looked bad, then the dwarf inside it looked horrible, barely recognizable as their king. Oin almost missed him when he first looked through the room. He was sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall next to the door. His legs were sprawled out, his arms sitting limply by his sides. Oin would have thought he was unconscious if not for the empty eyes staring across the room, not truly seeing anything.

His clothes were disheveled, the same outfit he wore when he left his sister’s house if the blood stains were to say anything. His braids looked several days old making it hard to tell which was which. He was covered in scratches that he didn’t seem to notice, his knuckles so raw Oin could hardly find the wounds under the shear amount of dried blood. He had a shard of glass gripped in one hand, making fresh blood pool underneath his fist.

It pained the healer to see his king in such a state, but what made it even worse was that his beard was now gone. The two inches of facial hair he had finally allowed to grow had been shorn off, scattered around him in forgotten clumps. It was painfully clear that he had used the piece of glass in his fist to cut it, making the little hair still left on his face uneven and patchy. Some parts were still about a half an inch thick while others were shaved so close that the impromptu blade had bit deeply into his skin, making him bleed.

“Oi, don’t just stand in the doorway ya…” Nori started to say but his voice faded away when he caught sight of the room. “Mahal’s balls, what happened in ‘ere?”

Oin sighed as he snapped out of his shock induced stupor. He pulled out his ever present medical kit as he knelt down next to his king to begin treating his wounds.

“Nori, I am going to need a basin of water and a clean cloth of some type. Would you mind asking your barkeep friend for them?” Oin finally said, pulling out some bandages and salve that he was sure he would need. Nori nodded before running off towards the stairs.

Before he could do much more, however, Dwalin appeared in front of him as he stared down at Thorin. Oin could tell that the guard was trying to use every inch of his height to appear intimidating yet his king didn’t seem to notice.

“Thorin, what is going on? What happened?” Dwalin asked, not getting a response. “Answer me.”

He waited a moment for an answer, his hand tightening into a fist as he didn’t get one.

“Thorin, I swear to Mahal, if you don’t answer me I will hit you so hard that Durin himself will feel it!” Dwalin narrowed his eyes when this didn’t recieve even a blink from him.

 A moment later, Dwalin had Thorin suspended off the ground by the front of his shirt, leaning in close to glare at his cousin.

“Answer me damn it!” he yelled, giving him a bit of a shake as if it would snap him out of it. Again Thorin did nothing, not even bothering to look at Dwalin, which only infuriated the guard even more.

Dwalin looked about ready to start following through with his threat if only to get some sort of response from the dwarf.

“That’s enough,” Oin all but commanded in a no nonsense tone of voice. Dwalin immediately stopped what he was doing, knowing better then to ignore the dwarf when he used that tone. “Dwalin, I think it would be best if you go alert the other guards that they can halt their search. They have better uses of their time then to continue searching for a dwarf that has already been found.”

“Fine,” Dwalin huffed, dropping Thorin back to the floor. He stormed out of the room shoving a returning Nori out of the way, almost spilling the basin of water in the process.

Nori let out a low whistle as he watched the guard stalk angrily down the hallway.

“An’ I thought _I_ pissed ‘em off,” the thief commented as he sat down the water next to Oin.

“He is just worried about Thorin,” Oin replied, giving Nori a nod of thanks as he wet one of the cloths.

“If ‘at’s worried, I don’t want to see angry.”

“You probably don’t.” Oin gently removed the shard of glass still grasped in Thorin’s hand before beginning to clean the wound. “Well, Thorin, you did quite a number on this hand of yours. The other doesn’t look much better either. Don’t even get me started on what you’ve done to your face. It will take years for that beard to even out correctly. I am a bit surprised that you didn’t try to shave your head as well.”

“I couldn’t,” Thorin replied in a horse whisper. Oin looked at him in surprise, not expecting a response after the way he ignored Dwalin. “My braids. I could not cut them.”

Thorin raised his free hand, his fingers brushing up against the beads of two messy braids. One was labeled with the rune for “husband” while the other held the rune for “father.”

“Good thing you didn’t. I doubt Kibil would have approved,” Oin said after a moment as he began wiping the blood away to see what he was dealing with. “Though I doubt she would have approved of anything you’ve participated in in the last five days.”

“No, she wouldn’t have.” Silence followed as Oin continued treating the wounds, pulling out splinters as he found them. Nori was shifting around uncomfortably next to him, as if he didn’t know what to do.

“You know what I’ve done,” Thorin stated after a while, not even bothering to phrase it as a question.

 Oin could see almost see Nori’s curiosity spike at the words.

“Nori, would you mind talking to the owner about compensating him for the damages? You’ve seen the room and I assume you know what a fair price would be better than we would,” Oin asked, making the thief look at him strangely.

“Does it look like I deal with trashed taverns all day?” Nori replied shortly. Oin gave him a look that had the thief rolling his eyes. “Fine, if ya insist. Can’t promise it’ll be the best deal though.”

“Thank you,” Oin replied as the thief left the room.

“You know,” Thorin said again, once Nori’s footsteps were heard going down the stairs.

“If you are referring towards your son, then yes, I know,” Oin said after a moment. “There’s a distinct difference between a three week old and a three day old, if you know where to look. What I don’t know is why.”

“I had to,” Thorin muttered, not even twitching as Oin removed several splinters from his hand. “It was for the best.”

“What happened?” When Oin didn’t get an answer he sighed once again. “Your wife died, didn’t she? Before you went to your sister’s.”

“An assassin. I don’t know who. Or why,” he replied. “He killed her mere moments before I returned home. I barely arrived in time to save Kyrian.”

“The cut on his cheek came from the assassin, right?” Oin barely saw him nod numbly. He gave Thorin a moment as he focused on cleaning up the fresh blood welling from where the splinters had been. “Is it safe to assume that it was the reason you came looking for me that night.”

“I was worried.”

“I have no doubt,” Oin said with a small smile as he went back to pulling out splinters. “You are very protective of the boy, which is why it was so hard to believe that you could just give him up like you did.”

“It’s safer this way,” Thorin said after a moment. “As my son he would have always been in danger. As my nephew he gains a certain amount of distance from me that will keep him safe.”

“And you thought of all this as you were handing your child over?” Oin asked skeptically. “Or is it more an excuse thought up after the fact to give yourself closure.”

“My only thoughts at the time where that he would starve without her. And that she would lose herself to grief without him,” he said. “It was best to lose my child in this way then to watch both my sister and my son die in my arms because of my selfishness.”

“And if your sister finds out the truth behind Kili?”

“She will not.”

“But-“

“As far as the world is concerned my wife and son were killed by assassins that night,” Thorin said simply. “I burned the house down to get rid of all evidence that would say anything different. Only you and I know the truth and neither of us will be revealing it to another sole.”

“As you wish,” Oin said with a nod. He continued his work silently until removing the last of the splinters and pulled out the bandages from his bag. Oin just started to wrap Thorin’s hand when he paused, a thought coming to mind. “But you said that only the two of us know the truth. Wouldn’t it be three?”

For the first time since the conversation started, Thorin looked at Oin, a confused expression on his face.

“What do you mean? Who else would know?”

“Logically the man that failed to kill him would know he did not die by his hand,” Oin explained. He watched as Thorin’s eyes widened in surprised.

“He’s still in danger,” Thorin whispered to himself. “He’s still in danger, I have to help him.”

He tried to climb to his feet, only for Oin to grab his sleeve and pull him back to the floor.

“You’re not going anywhere until I’ve finished treating your wounds.”

“But-“

“Do not make me repeat myself,” Oin said as he began wrapping the hand.

“Very well. Just be quick about it,” Thorin said as he settled back down with a sigh. “There is much I need to do and very little time in order to do it.”

“I will be done when I say I am. Not a moment sooner. Is that clear?”

“I guess.”

 

It was an eternity before Oin was done with his treatment, or at least that’s what it seemed like to Thorin. After five days of mourning, he finally had something that he needed to do, yet the other Dwarf was not letting him do it.

“There, you are done,” Oin said as he tacked the last bandage in place. “Now I believe you owe the tavern owner an apology.”

“That I do, an apology best given in gold no doubt,” Thorin replied, earning a nod from Oin in response. “Very well, let us depart.”

Thorin climbed to his feet slowly as he grabbed the wall for support. His body felt stiff and weak now that he was paying attention to it. Sitting on the floor for about a day was probably not the best decision on his part, but neither was trashing a tavern room for that matter.

Oin eyed him nervously, as if waiting for him to tumble back to the floor, but that never happened. Thorin stood tall, letting go of the wall once he felt his balance return, and walked out the door.

He was lucky that there were so few patrons at the moment, though the ones that were there stared at him strangely. He ignored their looks and followed Oin to where the tavern owner and a young, red-headed dwarf were bickering.

“That’s too ‘igh a price for your shitty tavern furniture and yah know it!” The young dwarf, who Thorin assumed was Nori, shouted angrily. “Mahal! That’s probably what yah payed for the entire place itself!”

“That’s my price and that’s final!” The owner, a tall, muscled dwarf that made Nori look impeccably small in comparison, glared. His gaze was challenging yet the smaller dwarf was not backing down.

“Oh this is going to end wonderfully, I just know it,” Oin muttered. “I am going to break it up before we have to pay for two sets of furniture instead of one.”

Without another word Oin rushed over between the two, speaking in quiet tones that Thorin couldn’t make out before shooing the younger dwarf away. Nori huffed angrily before stomping his way towards the king and plopping himself into a chair nearby.

“Bastard,” he muttered under his breath, still glairing daggers at the owner. “I might not know much bout taverns but I know that ain’t a good price.”

“I thank you for trying,” Thorin told him as he sat down at the same table. Nori looked a bit startled but recovered fairly quickly.

“It was nothin’,” he muttered. “Really. It wasn’t like I ‘ad much time anyways.”

“From my count you had quite a bit of time,” Thorin asked in confusion. Nori froze for a moment. “After all it took Oin quite a while to patch me up.”

“Well, it wasn’t very much time for a negotiation,”

“I have been to negotiations that were much shorter than that.”

“I’ve never ‘ad to do one so I’m not very good at them,” Nori answered quickly, not meeting the king’s gaze.

“You were eavesdropping on my conversation,” Thorin said, no question in his voice.

“’ow could you accuse me of such an act?”

“You heard every word that was said between Oin and I.”

“I did not!” Nori exclaimed, staring intently at the walls in front of him. He sneaked a glance at Thorin only for the king’s stern glair to break his resolve. “I went downstairs when Oin started bossing yah around. Anything said after that I didn’t ‘ear.”

Thorin rubbed his forehead as he sighed. He should be angry right now, but he was just too tired for even a spark of it to ignite at the moment.

“Yah know, I could ‘elp yah. I was the one to find your location after all.”

“It took you five days to find an extremely conspicuous dwarf who hadn’t moved the entire time. I would not call that much of a skill,” Thorin replied, not looking at the other dwarf at all.

“Technically I didn’t start my search until this morning,” Nori replied, sounding pretty smug. “I was in jail for the first four days and Dwalin only turned to me for ‘elp once ‘e was out of options.”

“What exactly do you do?” Thorin asked as he glanced sideways at him.

“I like to think of myself as a collector.” Nori grinned at his king as he continued. “I collect things of value. It don’t matter to me whether it’s mine or someone else’s, an object or just information. If I can profit from it, I collect it.”

“And can you earn a profit from the information you stole this evening?”

“I don’t know, can I?” The pair eyed each other for a moment before Nori started speaking once again. “It looks to me like yah could use someone to collect information for yah. And I’m willing to be that person if yah pay me well for it.”

“How old are you?” Thorin asked. “You look a bit young for this sort of work.”

“Twenty-seven,” he answered shortly. “But I don’t see why that should be a problem. From what I ‘eard you were only twenty-four when Erebor fell while your guard friend, Dwalin, was my age yet fought in the Battle of Azanulbizar.”

“I’m going up against some very dangerous people. If you took this job you may suffer for it.” Thorin lowered his hand and have Nori a serious look. “Do you really want to risk losing your life at such a young age, just for a bit of extra gold?”

“I’d gladly die if it meant that my family ‘as enough gold to insure they don’t share my fate,” Nori answered quietly, completely serious for the first time since the conversation started.

“Very well,” Thorin said after a moment. “I accept your offer. We shall iron out the details when I am able to think more clearly.”

“Sounds good to me.” Nori smirked once again, stretching in his chair before climbing to his feet. “Well, I best be off. My brother’s probably worried sick. It will be a pleasure working with you, yah highness. I’m sure.”

Nori passed the bar just as Oin seem to finish his negotiation with the owner. The thief nodded towards the pair, looking respectable enough until a few steps later when he made a rude hand gesture towards the owner’s back and disappeared out the door. Oblivious to the young dwarf’s antics, the pair shook hands before Oin headed back towards his king.

“Alright, that is settled. We can drop off the gold tomorrow,” Oin said once he was close enough. Thorin nodded in agreement. “What was that about? You and Nori seemed to be having quite the conversation.”

“It was nothing of importance,” Thorin replied, getting up from his chair. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“The royal court. I think it’s about time I start leading my people again.”

“But, what about Kili? Isn’t he still in danger?”

“No harm will come to him while I still have the strength in my arms to fight it,” Thorin said confidently. “My sister’s son is safe.”


End file.
